All Other Players Eliminated
by Tigerdust
Summary: Your life really can change in ten seconds. Is that your final response? Rated T purely for a really good action movie reference. No pairings yet.


Creator's Note: My birthday is Friday and I decided to use this as an answer to three challenges: The first was by earlgrey87, the second this week's taming the muse prompt hot seat, and the third was an OC for my birthday (John Tripp is my fanfic alter ego-if you haven't read One Dangerous Gentleman-which I'd recommend btw). This one is is pretty tame, could be a one-shot or not.

I'm not any of the characters/celebrities/writers/ect. of Doctor Who or Who Wants to Be a Millionaire. Just borrowing the ideas. No infringement is intended (stuff is just borrowed-I'll return it to where I found it, promise), I make no money, this is for entertainment purposes only. All the good stuff. That should about cover it.

Btw, International Land Mine Awareness Day is April 4th, my birthday.

Now who wants a cookie?!

--On With the Show!--

He could still hear the bass booming behind him as he left his hotel in the fashionable part of London. They had rented a limo for his ride to the studio. John mused about how long his luck would hold up. He should have known the second he got in that car that his luck would run out.

The party at the hotel must have lasted two days. Any winnings he were sure to get from Who Wants to Be a Billionaire? They would surely be spent cleaning up the hotel. Celebrities mingled with college friends; volunteers mingled with statesman. John Tripp had a way of bringing like minded and genuine people to his side. A chance to be on the show of the century? That brought them all together.

They were collectively proud of John Tripp. He had overcome poverty, owned his own mildly successful publishing firm and bakery, separately of course, and had been successfully single now for seven years out of college. The most he owned was a squirmy American golden retriever named Andie. That would explain why he didn't own many valuables. Except for his library; he loved his library with his warm fireplace and red leather chair.

The leather of the limo was just as soft against his faux leather jacket. He had kept the jacket even after spilling a bit of bleach on the sleeve. He was fancy and popular, but thrifty? John Tripp was still thrifty. The chauffeur tipped his hat and John smiled warmly, checking his messages and clicking his phone to the off switch for the night. "Evening sir."

"Evening! Are you my ride tonight?"

"I believe so." The driver winked at him, and John did a slight double take out of the corner of his eye. The posture, the hair poking from under the cap, the eye shade was familiar. Toasted almond hair with deep brown eyes and that gait. John shook it off as dejavu. In the back of the limousine were two others, waiting to meet him.

"Hello. My name is Lilly. I'm the executive producer of Billionaire and this is my associate David. He is the general quiz maker and personality analyst of our humble game show. Let me be the first to say this is just amazing to have you with us tonight."

"No, no. The pleasure is all mine Lilly." John kissed Lilly's hand as he bent forward just slightly. There was something oddly familiar about Lilly, something slightly out of place. Her hair was a shoulder-length blond tied back with chopsticks. She had large eyes, nearly the same color as the chauffeur. She was sturdy, a home-bound British woman if John had ever seen one. David was tall, even sitting John could tell. His tan skin and body were hidden under a well-tailored suit, no tie. There was something familiar about his grin, his hair, his charm. John could swoon if he wanted, he supposed.

John reached for a bottle of water, just barely scraping David's leg. "So, do all the contestants get this treatment? A limo to get to the game show?"

"Of course. We're just heading out now to pick up the other contestants at their various hotels. We normally book in one hotel, but because of the holiday this year..."

"Oh yes. Land mine awareness day. Marks the week threshold to my birthday."

"Well, happy birthday then." David cocked his head slightly and smiled at John.

"We just have a few questions for you before the others start arriving. First, what do you do?"

"I dabble in several things. But my first job out of college was one of the ones I was most proud of. I worked part time at a health food store. Learned quite a bit about the world from the owners and it sent me down a brilliant path. I suppose you could call me a historian of sorts."

"How so?" Lilly looked up from her clipboard, mild interest hiding behind her gaze.

"Well, I tend to observe and absorb culture, in my own way. I could tell you various things I've picked up through language, dance, food, and books about almost all known cultures and some animals on the planet. It fascinates me, the human and animal condition."

"Do you like to travel and explore, then?"

"My yes. Yosemite, the Andes, I've seen quite a bit of it all. First hand is the way to go. My motto is: If you aren't living on the edge then you're taking up too much space."

"Wonderful." David took the clipboard and began to scan the list.

"How about a favorite memory, Mr. Tripp?"

"That's easy." John looked outside of the darkened window and his mind wandered backwards in time. "I was nineteen that year. Me and some of my college mates spent the day at an abandoned beach in Northern California. We played football, ate taffy and sandwiches in the sand, got massive sunburns and played around in surging cold water. We were all wet and exhausted, but as the sun set and the conversation grew longer, we knew how lucky we had all been, together."

"So, are you a people person then?"

"I've been accused of it, Lord knows, but I still think of myself as a loner. I have the various acquaintances, hit and miss relationships, some odd duck family members, but when it comes down to it; I play well by myself almost better. Sure, I help others but one does well with just one or two companions rather than an army to muddle up ones plans."

The limo stopped in front of a chain of hotels and four people converged on the car. Welcomes and general hellos were exclaimed all around.

"Names and occupations please, so we can see who is all playing here tonight." Lilly began to speak again as the limo moved down the lamp lit street.

"My name is Greg Sanders. I'm a chemist with a criminal investigations lab."

"Hi! I'm Martha Jones. I'm a doctor with the government. I help save children and missionaries needing medical care in foreign countries."

"Work well under pressure then, Ms. Nightingale?"

"I would hope so David."

"I am Alex Harris. I work as a construction foreman by day."

"And by night, Mr. Harris?"

Alex thought for a moment with a twinkle in his eye. "The question is, what don't I do at night?"

David laughed and whispered something to Lilly who whispered to the driver, who also laughed.

"Last but not least?"

"My name is Mr...Angel. I'm a...home improvement specialist."

"I see. We'll we want to take a moment to thank you all for joining us for this edition of Who Wants to Be a Billionaire and wish you all the best of luck!"

John spoke. "Well, I know I feel out of my league. I just started as a poor schmo from the Midwest who had a couple of dreams." He raised his bottle of water. "To us, then?"

"To us."

"We've arrived." John could hear the voice of the chauffeur as the limo stopped in front of a back entrance.

Everyone was too nervous to pace as they waited in the green room and were then rushed to their chairs for the lightning selection round of the competition.

He could hear the man behind the camera usher the host, Agatha Lennox, to the top of the hosting stairs that she would enter from. He tensed up just a bit as the lighting dimmed and his name glowed green on his screen, greeting him with good luck in the competition.

"I'm Miss Lennox and welcome everyone to Who Wants to Be a Billionaire? Shall we play then?" The audience began to clap, but John found his fingers too numb to move. Miss Lennox moved down the stairs to the circle of chairs where John and the other contestants sat. She continued speaking as the music gave way.

"The game begins with the Lightning Selection Round. The person with the fastest and most accurate answer to the chain of events listed will win a chance at becoming a billionaire, with half of their winnings also going to a charity of their choice. This week, our sponsor of the Lightning Selection Round is the American Cancer Society. Are the contestants ready to begin?"

The music changed and the lights dimmed even further, tinging John's glasses in light blue as the screen lit up further. "The lightning question is...

Name, in order of appearance, these Broadway musicals.

Wicked, Chicago, Cats, Mama Mia."

John couldn't, wouldn't believe his luck. It was too easy; his fingers found the spring to move within ten seconds around the board. He was the conductor in the lightning symphony. His concentration was broken only when the buzzer sounded above his head.

"Okay, then. Let's find out who's won a chance in the Billion Dollar Chair! John Tripp, you answered correctly in the fastest round we've ever had!" There was a general uproar of applause from the audience. Alex even shook his hand as he walked toward the arena, where he was lifted in his chair to where Miss Lennox sat, across from him and waiting.

"Welcome, Mr. Tripp. My, that was impressive. How are you feeling?"

"I'm a little nervous, Miss Lennox."

"Please, call me Aggie."

"Well, Aggie, I was amazed at how easy that was!"

"I wouldn't get amazed too quickly. This game has a way of changing on you. Are you ready to play?"

"Let's rock and roll!"

Four questions later, John requested a cup of coffee. He was exhausted. Up the 50,000 dollar question they were all easy, but the tension of waiting and the hot lights were beginning to crawl under his nerve endings. His show assistant ferreted quickly around the stage and brought him some sweetened nameless Java brand, and he said a little prayer for the energy to get on with it.

"You're doing smashing, darling."

"Why thank you Aggie."

"I must say, looks and intelligence. Tell me, has some girl swept you off your feet yet?"

John shook his red hair and just noticed the camera being flipped back on out of the corner of his eye. "Not yet, I'm afraid. I just haven't found that right person yet."

"Well, you never know, they might be right around the corner. Shall we continue then with the 50,000 dollar question? Let me remind you that your four chances are still remaining and that this question guarantees you leaving with at least this amount of money."

John smiled warmly. Good to know. "As I said earlier, let's rock."

"Okay, let's rock with the category of American History. John Tripp, which one of these was the Twenty-First President of the United States of America?

A. Abraham Lincoln

B. Chester A. Arthur

C. Dwight D. Eisenhower

D. Franklin Delano Roosevelt"

"Well, Aggie, that's a difficult one to answer. I was, of course, a history buff throughout most of high school, but I don't need to delve back into that little corner of my brain. The answer comes from my favorite action hero."

"Who? Sylvester Stallone? Jean Claude Van Damme? Gov. Schwarzenegger?"

"No, Aggie. It comes from Bruce Willis, courtesy of Die Hard 2. The answer is B, Chester A. Arthur, thank you action movies!" John raised his arms above his head in triumph.

"Is that your final response?"

"Of course."

"Then you've just won 50,000 dollars."

Four questions later, along with his third cup of coffee and his second commercial break, John Tripp was beginning to get restless. He didn't normally sit for this long and was beginning to struggle. He had even broken down and used one of his four chances, polling the audience for a correct response on a question about the drummer of a popular Australian heavy metal band. John Tripp wondered how much luck he had left to lose.

"Welcome back. We have come to question before the halfway mark of our game show. John Tripp is doing exceedingly well. Five minutes left, how are you feeling?"

"A little anxious to get on with this, I'll admit."

John didn't hear the next question. A wiry man with glasses appeared at the top of the audience box, studying John. He looked remarkably like the chauffeur. John would have bet money that it was the chauffeur. He held something to his lips, a slim metal tube with a blue light at the edge of it. That same twinkle plagued his eye and John cocked his head back to the board just in time to absentmindedly answer.

"A."

"A is your answer? You sure you don't need to use one of your chances?"

"What? Oh", John quickly scanned the electronic board sitting in front of him. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Then A is your final response?"

John nodded, murmuring yes, and then allowed his chin to sink into his chest just a bit.

"You're correct! In Monty Python's Holy Grail, the African swallow is the other bird mentioned in the bridge scene! Congratulations! Do you have the strength for the one million dollar question tonight?"

"I believe so."

Aggie nodded to the crewman upstairs. The lights flickered and John saw another question flicker across the screen, just briefly, replaced by a question about Edmond Dontes.

He looked back towards the contestant box and the man was gone. He licked his lips and then brushed his coffee just so that it would spill across his knee and onto the floor. The buzzer that signaled ten minutes to the end of the question sounded.

"Ah, I've spilled my coffee Aggie! How clumsy of me!"

"Nerves do have a way of getting to us at times like these. What do you say, shall we give him a chance to get cleaned up?" There was general cheering from the crowd and they went to a commercial break.

John moved faster than his personal assistant to the restroom. He splashed water on his face, letting it drip off of fingertips and his nose. His glasses lay on the granite and he allowed his brow to furrow. It couldn't be real. He couldn't have seen that question. He had wondered. He had waited. Was it really his turn?

He heard the noise and he ran. The most famous noise in all the world. He ran and grabbed his faux leather jacket from the green room and then down two more hallways, like a rat stuck in a maze looking for that prize Gouda. His black striped button-down shirt skidded through small hallways and around page boys.

One of them yelled back at him. "Ten seconds, Mr. Tripp!"

He saw it. And he knew it was no mistake. He opened the blue door in a hungry fury.

He thought back briefly to the question on the screen as he entered the Tardis for the first time. If the Doctor asked, would you go? John smiled as he saw the man from the audience box. It really was the Doctor.

"Is that your final response?"


End file.
